She bit her lower lip slightly, murmuring to herself: "Young Master Shi, where exactly are you? I'm really worried that you're still trapped in the danger-filled Mingjian Manor. If you were captured by that despicable Dugu Chang and others, how could you endure such torture, and what am I supposed to do..."
Her voice was as gentle as the mildest spring breeze, lightly brushing past, yet it carried the weight of a thousand catties, stirring up waves like a raging storm in the hearts of Xie Wen and Shi Xiong.
Her hands unconsciously clenched the corners of her clothes, her fingertips turned white from force, like lamb's fat jade, as if she was clutching her last hope tightly at that moment. Her breathing grew increasingly rapid, and each breath trembled, just like her heart full of worry, restless and anxious.
In her heart, Shi Feiyang was no longer an ordinary Jianghu swordsman but the sunshine in her life, the only warmth and reliance she had in this complex Martial Arts world.
